


Two Ezri, One Space Station

by Firecadet



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Abduct and Replace, Background Relationships, Can't Go Home Again, Gen, Mirror Universe, Travel to Prime Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firecadet/pseuds/Firecadet
Summary: Sent once again to DS9 in the Prime Universe, Ezri Tigan replaces her Prime Counterpart, before discovering that she can't return home.
Relationships: Benjamin Sisko/Kasidy Yates, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax, Kira Nerys/Odo, Mirror Ezri Dax/Mirror Leeta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	1. Arrival

Exactly why Leeta had sent her here, Ezri Tigan had no idea. Her lover usually had some sort of goal, when it came to excursions this far from home. The Bajoran had been looking at her differently, even if she couldn’t fully understand why. The last time she’d been sent here, it’d been to acquire a cloaking device. That ferengi had taken a while to figure out she wasn’t herself from this universe. This time, her instructions had simply been to find herself.

Moving through the corridors of Terok Nor was surprisingly straightforward. There were patrols, but they looked like peacekeepers walking the beat, not soldiers. They didn’t even react to her, other than with a few familiar nods. A quick check on a terminal (unsecured, for anyone to use) allowed her to find her way to her destination on the habitat ring.

There was at least a touchpad securing the door. She touched it, setting off a chime.

“Come in!” she heard herself say. “I’m just finishing my report.”

That wasn’t a concern to Ezri. It would make things easier. Her mind boggled as she stalked silently through the door. No-one she knew would ever open the door like that, without checking who was coming in, and without a weapon.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When she heard the door go, Ezri Dax assumed it was Bashir, or O’Brien.

“Come in!” she called, welcomingly. “I’m just finishing my report.”

As the door closed, she realised she couldn’t hear any footsteps behind her, but thought nothing of it. It wouldn’t have been the first time Julian had been wearing his spy gumshoes outside of the holosuite. Or that he’d thought sneaking up on her and kissing her was…

There was a sense of movement behind her. She half-turned, before a hand clamped down over her mouth and nose, cutting off her ability to breathe. It was clad in what tasted like leather when she instinctively tried to bite it. An instant later, another leather-clad arm wrapped around her neck, clamping pressure onto the sides of it. Her arms came up, clawing at her attacker’s arms in a sudden panic. She could feel herself flushing, and then her vision began to dim around the edges. With the door closed and a hand over her mouth, her screams would be too muffled to hear through the door, she realised, desperately trying to break the chokehold. Her hands scrabbled at the leather, unable to gain purchase before she blacked out.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Ezri Tigan moved fast once her counterpart had gone limp, and she’d held the stranglehold long enough to know that she wasn’t faking it. Within twenty seconds of her releasing her grip, her counterpart was in her briefs. She couldn’t help noticing that they were positively modest and unflattering and crinkled her nose slightly. Moving fast, she pulled her counterpart’s hands behind her, fastening them in tie-cuffs she’d brought for the purpose. The more the other Trill struggled, the more they would tighten. A second set secured her ankles. With the other Ezri secured, she quickly dragged her into her own bathroom, before extracting a gag. It’d been designed for slave transport. The harness fitted around the victim’s head, covering the nose and mouth. It would automatically dampen any sounds that the other trill tried to make to the stage where someone in the same room would barely notice them.

Shutting the door behind her, she smiled, satisfied.

As far as anyone knew, she was Ezri Dax, Starfleet Lt(JG).

And it was time to put that to good use. She wondered about visiting a holosuite, or any of the other ‘luxuries’ that she could never justify or afford.

She decided on Quark’s bar. To start off with. The last time she’d met the ferengi, it’d taken him a surprisingly long time to realise she wasn’t her counterpart being kinky. She hit the privacy lock on the way out, just in case anyone might find her other self.

It felt odd not to be glaring at everyone she walked past. To be receiving companionable nods and dinner invitations. To be able to use the public terminals to find out almost any information. She walked up to what looked like a public replicator and paused, scrolling through the menus.

Even weapons, it seemed, could be replicated freely.

“Having trouble choosing again, Ezri?” she heard someone call. Turning, she saw a human she knew as a brutal thug, wearing a Starfleet science uniform like hers.

“Yes!” She called back, not quite able to remember what to call him. “I’m still getting used to this.”

“If you have trouble choosing again, I’ll be in Garak’s.”

She kept scrolling through the list, astonished at the sheer variety of drinks that were available without charge. She kept looking over her shoulder for the thug collecting the ‘cover charge’, as well.

Instead, she was able to order a drink, and stroll down the promenade without anyone even blinking at her.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Bashir waved at Ezri as she wandered past, on her way to Quark’s, receiving a wave in return.

“She’s certainly something.” Garak commented.

“You’re right, as always.” Bashir replied. “And she has such a beautiful smile.”

Then Garak gave her another look, as she stepped into Quark’s, and whistled.

“I didn’t think she had it in her, Doctor.” He observed, jovially.

“Had what in her, Garak?”

“Well, she’s very well armed today, Doctor.”

“Well armed? Ezri?” Bashir stuttered.

“Well, she’s carrying at least two disruptors, five knives, and I think a hand grenade. All without really affecting the fit of her tunic. Whoever taught her to conceal those was skilled at the art.”

“Garak, you’re talking about Ezri. The station counsellor… the one who barely managed to shoot a Vulcan aiming a rifle at her.”

“Am I?” He asked, as if talking about the weather. “It’s not like she’s the only short, dark haired Trill we know of.”

“You don’t mean…?” Bashir spluttered. “Bashir to Ops. We may have a situation on our hands. Code Dagger.”

“Sisko here.” The station’s commander replied. “Confirm grounds for Code Dagger?”

“Lt. Dax, or someone who looks exactly like her, is, according to Garak, carrying at least two disruptors, a large number of knives and a grenade, sir.” Bashir responded. “She looked slightly more confused than usual when I passed her at the replimat this morning and didn’t pay the usual degree of attention to me.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.”

A couple of minutes later, Bashir spotted Odo and three deputies heading for Quark’s and decided to check on Ezri’s quarters.

The short walk to her quarters felt surprisingly familiar. They were nowhere near Jadzia’s (for which both of them were very thankful). Once he was outside of her quarters, he pressed the chime. There was no response. He pressed it again, banging physically on the door as well.

“Ezri?” he called. “Are you in there?”

There was no response. Although the doors were programmed to allow him entry, if the privacy locks were engaged, he’d still be unable to get in.

“Computer, override locking mechanism. Authorisation Bashir-Delta-Kappa-Eight-Four-Nine.”

As the door slid open, he noticed that the chair at Ezri’s desk was on its side, and that the small items of clutter on the surface were scattered. Stepping through, he spotted a pile of leather clothing that looked suspiciously Dax-sized. He also realised that the bathroom privacy lock was engaged. An attempt to override it from the outside failed.

“Bashir to Ops. I need the override code for Dax’s bathroom door.”

There were a few moments of silence.

“The code is “Call Chief O’Brien or Rom”, Doctor.” Sisko replied. “Dax logged an issue with the override in the last set of testing, but it hasn’t been repaired yet.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Bashir didn’t waste any more time. Crossing to the replicator, he didn’t hesitate before making his order. “One hyperspanner.”

A moment later, he had the tool in his hand, and ten seconds later, the door hissed open.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Ezri Dax had woken up about two minutes after being left alone in her bathroom. A few moments of squirming had resulted in the restraints around her wrists and ankles tightening significantly. Unable to shout her override codes, even if they would have worked, she’d resigned herself to the increasingly uncomfortable position she was secured in.

Then she’d finally heard very familiar and reassuring footsteps outside of the room, after several attempts to get into her quarters. Her hands and feet were feeling numb and slightly cold to her, which did not remotely reassure her.

There was a certain amount of clunking, followed by Bashir trying to override the mechanism. He stepped away, and she listened to his conversation with Sisko, before he replicated a hyperspanner and the door hissed open.

“Ezri?” she heard him say.

She complained into the gag, watching him take in the scene, feeling like her entire body was going scarlet. It probably wasn’t the most awkwardly embarrassing position any of her previous hosts had ended up in, but even Lela’s… escapade hadn’t ended like this. Not with someone she really, really, really liked finding her in her underwear, tied up and gagged. Ok, the manacles had been… embarrassing. But she’d been fully clothed, and Ezri was allowing her mind to wander so that she could try and ignore the situation she was in. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t her boyfriend, right?

“Bashir to Infirmary, I need a medical transport, alpha priority.” He tugged on her restraints, causing them to tighten slightly more around her wrists. “And some cutting equipment.”

 _Compartment syndrome._ She thought to herself. _Even though pulling on them hurt me, it allowed him to find out how dangerous they were to me._

The familiar tingle of a transporter ran over her body within seconds, before she was in the safe, familiar environment of the DS9 infirmary, on a soft, padded and warm surface. There was a reassuring sound from the biobed she’d been deposited onto, and she relaxed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Ezri Tigan was feeling very pleased with herself, as she looked at the scene in the holosuite she’d hired. Possibly the most beautiful woman she’d ever imagined was standing in front of her, with bedroom eyes looking out at her. Both of them were naked, and she could feel the simulated sand under her feet, complimenting the salt tang of the air and the warmth of the sun.

She could barely remember that she was on a space station orbiting Bajor, in a room barely large enough to serve as a bedroom.

The woman moved closer, picking up a bottle from a nearby table. As she began rubbing baby oil over Ezri’s back, there was a chime, before the holosuite door hissed open, revealing four members of the station militia.

One of them, who she vaguely recognised from a picture the intendant had once shown her, just rolled his eyes and growled ‘Computer, Freeze Program.’

The woman stopped oiling Ezri instantly.

She also noticed three phasers trained on her.

She couldn’t decide which was more annoying.

“Ezri Tigan.” She heard, from the militia officer. “You are under arrest on suspicion of assault, impersonating a Starfleet officer, false imprisonment, kidnapping, indecent exposure, using a holosuite under false pretences, illegal possession of weapons, possession of explosives and possession of an unauthorised bladed article. Come quietly, or we’ll stun you.”

She raised her hands, looking towards the pile of clothing that contained all of her weaponry.

A blue jumpsuit was thrown to her. “Put that on.”

Glaring at the group of militiamen, Ezri obeyed, clambering into the horrible-looking jumpsuit, before the militiamen approached in a tactical formation, fanning out with their phasers trained on her.

Once they were six feet away, she was given a new instruction.

“Turn around, kneel down on the floor, and put your hands on your head.” She was ordered. She considered a lunge for one of her disruptors, and moved slightly towards it, before finding herself, with a splitting headache and dry mouth, on what she realised almost instantly was a holding cell bunk.

She muttered a number of very spiky words in about half the languages of the galaxy, before someone appeared outside of her cell who made her huddle against the wall, until she noticed the differences. Unlike the intendant, this Kira didn’t move as if she expected the world to stare at her and didn’t look at Ezri with eyes that clearly said, ‘I’m only interested in what you can do to benefit me’. She was more guarded, more closed-in, almost defensive in her body language.

“Ezri Tigan.” She said, in a voice almost identical to that of the Intendant. “What the pahna are you doing on Deep Space Nine?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, she realised. “I was sent here… I don’t know why.”

The Bajoran held up what she recognised as her comm. “This started chiming about five minutes after Odo threw you in there.” She said. “Just after the device you used to get here melted down into slag.”

Ezri just sat there, feeling like she’d been stunned again. “You mean that I’m trapped here?” She demanded. “That I can’t go home?”

“The communicator is refusing to play the message for anyone else.” Kira said, dropping the forcefield with one hand on her phaser, and tossing it to the Trill.

When Ezri caught it, it began to play almost immediately.

“Darling…” she heard Leeta’s voice say. “I’m sorry this message has to arrive this way. I don’t have that long, but I’ve kept this information from you long enough. About an hour after you are due to leave, the Klingon Alliance will arrive at the station in overwhelming force. I do not expect anyone aboard to survive. That is why I’m sending you somewhere safe. You are one of the kindest, best people I have ever met in this universe. Stay strong, Ja’lat. We shall meet one day in that undiscovered land.”

And then she collapsed onto the bed, clutching at the simple bracelet that she hadn’t removed, even in the holosuite. Kira recognised it instantly and went from jailor to comforter within seconds. She threw her arms around Ezri, and just held her as the Trill sobbed into her tunic, grieving for the person she cared about the most in any universe she could imagine.


	2. Chapter 2

Ezri Dax had no idea why she'd been summoned to the Captain's office. She'd been embroiled with Julian, turning the negative energy from her time locked in her own bathroom into something decidedly more... positive... when the call came in that he was required in the holding area. After that, she hadn't seen him for several hours.

Dressed in her full uniform, she was standing behind the captain's desk when…

When she stepped through the door, wearing simple Bajoran clothing provided by one of Kira's friends. The Colonel was walking behind her.

There was a brief moment of bristling from Dax. Tigan, having seen herself before, didn't react, or at least not the same way. Dax noticed that Tigan's eyes were slightly red, before she glanced down at the deck.

"Ezri Tigan." Captain Sisko said. "Colonel Kira tells me that there is more to your appearance here than meets the eye."

Tigan sounded just like her, Dax noted, when she spoke. "My... betrothed, Leeta, sent me here, telling me that she wanted me to find myself..." her shoulders shook. "I now know that it was a ploy to get me off of DS9... or that DS9, before the Klingon Alliance arrived."

"You didn't have to..." Dax interjected hotly.

"How else was I going to blend in?" Tigan retorted.

"You could have at least talked to me..." Dax suddenly lunged forwards, being intercepted by Colonel Kira before reaching strangling range.

"I can't go home." Tigan shot back. "Everyone I know is dead, or worse than dead. I'm stuck here. I'm stuck here, where I don't even exist or belong."

Dax drew in a breath to respond, before Sisko bought the argument crashing to a halt. "Enough. The pair of you can carry this on in your own time, or not. Regardless of anything else, we have a refugee situation here."

Dax turned to glare at Sisko as Kira hauled her back to where she had been standing.

"No, Old Man. You are not going to demand anything."

Ezri bit her tongue.

“Right now, we’re going to engage in a process Starfleet has engaged in on several occasions. We’re going to make Miss Tigan here exist.”

He glanced at the rest of the command staff. “Mr O’Brien, I trust you have that report for me on the malfunctioning transporter.”

“I do, sir. It appears that the intersection of a Cardassian transporter beam with a pulse of Lambda radiation, produced by the wormhole, resulted in an unforeseeable malfunction, which resulted in the duplication of Ezri, but, for some reason, not Dax. This should be enough to cover most eventualities.”

“I see.” Sisko said, scrolling through the deliberately impenetrable technical jargon. “Will anyone be able to understand this?”

“No, sir.”

“Excellent. Dr Bashir?”

“Well, after sorting out the unfortunate duplication issue Ms. Tigan was suffering with, which caused her to behave irrationally, I can confirm that Ms. Tigan is sane, stable, and not in any way a threat to this station. I have also purged a selection of Cardassian BDSM devices from the replicator memory bank, with Garak’s assistance.”

“Excellent. You foresee no recurrences of her irrational behaviour, in impersonating her other self?”

“No, sir.”

“Excellent. Have you identified a way to easily distinguish the two, other than the symbiont?”

“I have, Sir. Ms. Tigan has, for an unknown reason, several minor lesions in her left eye. These are not present in Ms. Dax. Their fingerprints are also slightly different, as are their vascular handprints.”

“Good. You have programmed them both into the system?”

“With the Chief’s help, yes. Ms. Tigan has been entered into the biometric system as a civilian, who doesn’t have any of Ms. Dax’s access to secure areas or systems.”

“Good.” Sisko’s gaze turned to Tigan. “Ms. Tigan, I will need you to apologise to Ms. Dax.”

There was a certain amount of shuffling.

“Old Man…” Sisko began.

“Fine, Ben.” Dax growled out. “I’m sorry I tried to throttle the living daylights out of you.”

“And I’m sorry I choked you unconscious, stole your clothes, and tied you up in your boring underwear.” Tigan replied, as Sisko pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was going to be a long adjustment period.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome.


End file.
